The air inside the tent had turned cold by the time Morwenna woke, biting at her cheeks. She stayed beneath the heavy wool blanket for a while, her small body curled into a tight ball as she watched the pale dawn light spread across the canvas walls.
The fire had long since burned out, leaving only a trace of warmth behind. The morning was damp and still. Cinder remained curled against her side, his soft fur brushing her arm as his ribs rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.
The change from the bright stars of the night before to the cold morning seemed like a blur. She remembered the songs, the crackling fire, and the weight of the blanket, but everything else had slipped away beneath the pull of sleep. Now, the hard ground had left her back stiff, her legs tangled in the blankets, and the tip of her nose felt terribly cold.
She pushed herself upright, wincing as her stiff joints cracked in the silence. The tent seemed much larger with only her and the fox inside. Jack's sleeping bag was rolled up neatly against the canvas wall, but his boots were gone from their usual spot. Saoirse's blanket had been folded away, and the leather bag she usually kept in the corner had disappeared too.
Morwenna crawled toward the entrance, pressing her knees into the groundsheet, and pulled down the zipper. It rasped loudly through the quiet.
Outside, the clearing was washed in grey. The fire pit had gone cold, its wood collapsed into a mound of pale ash. A thin curl of smoke rose from one blackened log before disappearing into the morning mist.
Jane sat on a log near the remains of the fire, holding a steaming ceramic mug between her hands. Her red hair hung loose over her shoulders, slightly tousled by the breeze. Her bare feet rested on the cold, damp ground. When she saw Morwenna emerge, a small smile touched her lips.
"Bonjour, Mimi," Jane greeted her softly.
Morwenna sat beside her, still moving slowly with sleep. The log felt freezing through her thin shorts, and its dampness seeped into the fabric. Cinder followed her out, padding across the grass before settling at her feet, his nose pointed toward the dead fire.
"Where is Papa?" Morwenna asked, her voice still rough with sleep.
"He went to find us some breakfast. Saoirse went with him."
Morwenna glanced at the fire pit. The ash was dark grey, and the stones around it were stained with soot. One log near the edge still held a faint red glow, a tiny ember stubbornly refusing to die.
"Did they leave a long time ago?"
"Before sunrise." Jane handed her the mug. The tea was warm, though weak and heavily sweetened, just the way Morwenna liked it. "They should be back soon."
Morwenna wrapped both hands around the cup, letting its warmth seep into her fingers. Beyond the trees, golden sunlight began to break through the canopy, cutting across the shadows and turning the mist into a fine, shimmering haze.
"Do they know where to go?"
"Saoirse found a stream yesterday while she and Jack were looking around the area. She thought there might be fish."
Morwenna pictured them. She remembered the silver scales and clear, glassy eyes of the fish she had seen at the fishmonger's stall in London, where they lay on beds of ice beneath bright lights.
"Do fish live in streams?"
"In clean ones, yes. Especially cold, clear streams."
Morwenna had almost finished her tea when the quiet of the woods was broken.
Branches snapped somewhere in the distance. Voices followed, growing louder as they approached. Saoirse's laugh rang out first, bright and cheerful, followed by Jack's lower, steady reply.
They emerged from between the trees together, their boots covered in dark mud. Jack had pushed his sleeves up past his elbows, and his hands still glistened with water. Saoirse carried a woven bag over one shoulder, its bottom darkened with moisture.
"Well, look who is finally awake," Jack said with a grin. His black hair was a mess from the morning breeze.
Saoirse placed the bag on the log beside Jane. "Look what we found for breakfast."
Morwenna stood on her tiptoes to peer inside. There were three small, tart red apples and a handful of dark purple berries. At the bottom lay two fish, their silver scales shining in the morning light.
"There's a stream about ten minutes that way," Saoirse explained, pointing through the trees with a muddy finger. "The water is lovely and cold. We found the fish swimming around in it."
"Were they sleeping?" Morwenna asked.
"Just waiting for us to come along," Jack replied.
He knelt beside the fire pit and began arranging the dry sticks he had gathered. The fire soon sprang back to life under his care. He started with the smallest twigs, coaxing the flames to catch before adding larger branches until the fire burned steadily.
Meanwhile, Saoirse took out a knife and began cleaning the fish with quick, practiced movements. She rinsed them in a bowl of water from their canteen, then wrapped each one in foil with a generous pat of butter and a little salt.
Morwenna watched from the log, her stomach feeling tight and empty. Jane handed her an apple. She took a bite, finding the skin a little tough and the flesh pleasantly tart. The juice stung a small cut on her lip, but she kept eating until only the brown core remained.
Jack placed the foil packets on the glowing coals. The butter began to hiss almost at once, like a soft patter of rain, and the smell of cooking fish soon drifted through the clearing.
Saoirse sat beside Morwenna with a dusty potato in her hand.
"Would you like to cook this one yourself?"
Morwenna accepted the little vegetable, feeling the grit against her palms. Saoirse handed her a square of foil.
"Wrap it up tightly, just like we did for dinner last night."
Morwenna carefully folded the foil around the potato. Her small fingers left behind several lumpy, uneven creases, but she took great care to cover every part of it so that no brown skin showed through.
"That's good," Saoirse praised her.
She took the packet and tucked it deep into the coals beside the fish.
They waited as the fire crackled and smoke drifted upward through the leafy canopy. Morwenna watched the foil gradually darken with soot. Jack turned the fish with a sturdy stick, releasing little clouds of fragrant steam each time he moved them.
Morwenna ate another apple before trying the berries. They tasted sweet at first, then turned sour, their skins bursting between her teeth and staining her tongue a dark purple.
The fish finished cooking first. Jack lifted the packets from the coals and placed them on a flat rock. Jane opened one, releasing a cloud of buttery steam that made Morwenna's mouth water. The white flesh separated easily beneath a fork. Jane placed a portion on a plate and handed it to her.
It was still very hot, so Morwenna waited a little before taking a bite. The fish was soft and tender, almost melting in her mouth. She ate with her fingers, copying Saoirse and licking the butter and salt from her knuckles. The salt had a sharp taste, while the butter made every bite rich and satisfying.
The potato was ready soon afterward. Morwenna opened her own uneven foil packet to find the skin blackened from the fire, while the inside remained white and steaming. She broke it open carefully, though the heat stung her fingertips, and ate every last bit.
When they had finished, Saoirse leaned back against the log with a satisfied sigh.
"Now that was a proper breakfast."
Morwenna looked at the dying flames. Her stomach was full, and her hands were sticky with grease and berry juice.
Jane stood and brushed the dirt from her trousers. "You can go for a walk with Saoirse now."
. . .
The path to the stream was narrow, with a thick carpet of old, decaying leaves covering the ground. Saoirse led the way, her boots finding firm footing on the uneven path with practiced ease. Jane followed close behind. Whenever the ground sloped or a hidden root crossed their way, she rested a hand against Morwenna's back to keep her from stumbling.
"Look at this," Saoirse said, pointing toward a large fallen log covered in thick emerald moss. "That tree must have been lying here for years."
Morwenna reached out and touched the moss. It was damp and soft, almost like the velvet on Jane's good cloak. She pressed her palm against it, leaving a small impression as water seeped out around her fingers.
"Try feeling the bark underneath," Saoirse suggested.
Morwenna pushed her fingers deeper, past the soft green layer. The wood beneath was rough and splintered, its old surface crumbling into damp pieces. She quickly pulled her hand away.
"Dead things help living things grow," Jane explained. "The fallen tree feeds the moss. The moss provides food for insects, and the insects feed the birds. C'est le cycle." (That's the cycle.)
Morwenna looked at the log again. It wasn't just an old tree lying on the forest floor. It was food and shelter for all sorts of little creatures.
They continued along the path until Saoirse stopped beside a tree with low, sturdy branches. Its bark was smooth and pale grey, and its leaves fluttered in the light breeze.
"This one is perfect for climbing. Look at those branches. They are almost like steps."
Morwenna tilted her head to look up. The lowest branch was almost level with her shoulder, while the others rose one after another toward the canopy.
"I will help you," Saoirse said, crouching in front of her. "Put your foot on my leg and reach for the branch."
Morwenna placed one foot on Saoirse's thigh. It felt solid beneath her shoe. She stretched upward, brushing the cool bark with her fingertips before finally managing to get a proper hold.
"Now pull. I have got you."
Morwenna strained, her face growing warm with the effort. Her arms still felt a little weak, but the branch was low enough for her to manage. She hooked one knee over it, then carefully brought up the other. The rough bark scraped against her palms as she pulled herself into a sitting position.
Saoirse stood, keeping both hands near Morwenna's waist to steady her.
"Good. Now look at the next one. Can you reach it?"
Morwenna glanced upward. The next branch was thicker but farther away. She stretched out her hand, only for her fingers to slip against a smooth patch of bark.
"Try again," Saoirse encouraged her.
Morwenna reached once more, this time gripping the branch more firmly. Saoirse gave her a gentle push from below until one knee found the wood. With a little more effort, Morwenna managed to pull herself up and sit astride the branch, her knuckles turning pale as she held on tightly.
She looked down. Jane stood beneath the tree, watching with her face tilted toward the sunlight. Her red hair glowed in the morning light. Saoirse was grinning beside her, standing just below the branch.
"I did it!" Morwenna said, her heart beating fast.
"You did," Saoirse replied.
She climbed up beside her with an easy, practiced movement. Once she had settled on the branch, she pointed through the canopy.
"Now look over there."
The clearing was visible between the trees. Their tent looked no bigger than a little green speck, while the fire pit was a dark mark on the ground beside it. Beyond the forest, the fields stretched toward the distant hills, wide and open beneath the morning sky.
Everything looked bigger from up here. The forest, the fields, even the world beyond them seemed to stretch farther than Morwenna had imagined.
"Tomorrow," Saoirse promised, "we will go a little higher."
Morwenna tightened her grip on the branch. Her heart was still thumping against her ribs, but for a moment, she didn't feel like climbing back down at all.
. . .
The stream was quieter in the afternoon heat. Golden sunlight filtered through the leaves, and clear water flowed over smooth, speckled stones. Morwenna sat on the bank with her knees drawn up, watching the dark shapes of fish dart beneath the surface.
Jack lowered himself beside her. He had taken off his boots and rolled his trousers up to his knees, leaving his pale legs bare.
"Ready?"
The water looked freezing. She had touched it earlier and remembered how sharply cold it felt.
"Ready."
Jack stood and held out his hand. Morwenna took it, her small fingers disappearing inside his. The stones along the bank had been warmed by the sun, but the moment she stepped into the stream, the cold struck her like a shock. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat. The bottom was slippery, and the stones shifted beneath her feet. She clung to Jack's hand, curling her toes against the moss-covered rocks.
"Slowly," he cautioned. His voice remained calm and steady. "Feel the bottom before you put your weight down."
She stopped moving, taking short breaths as she grew accustomed to the cold. The water was shallow, barely reaching her ankles. The first sharp sting gradually faded, leaving her skin tingling with a strange, lively sensation.
"There." Jack pointed toward a flat stone near the bank. "Stand on that one. It's firm."
Morwenna carefully made her way toward it, the water swirling around her shins. Once she had found her balance, she let go of his hand.
"Now what?"
Jack crouched in the stream, resting his hands on his knees.
"Now we watch."
Morwenna waited, copying his posture. Water murmured as it flowed over the streambed. The stones beneath the surface were different shades of gray and brown, worn smooth and rounded by the passing years. The fish remained beneath the shadows of the overhanging bank, their tails flicking now and then.
"You have to stay very still," Jack whispered. "Fish can sense movement. They feel the water change when you disturb it."
Morwenna held her breath. Her chest felt tight, but she kept her arms and legs as still as she could. The current flowed around her without interruption. For a moment, she almost felt as though she had become part of the stream herself.
Then a fish darted out from beneath a moss-covered rock.
It was small and silver, no longer than her hand. It hovered in the middle of the stream, its fins moving constantly to keep it in place against the current.
"There," Jack murmured.
Morwenna spotted it. The fish faced upstream, its slender body curved slightly. Its dark, glassy eye seemed to watch the world with quiet curiosity.
"Now what?" she whispered.
"Now you try."
She turned to look at him. Jack was smiling, his dark eyes bright with amusement.
"Catch it?"
"Catch it. Use your hands."
Morwenna looked back at the fish. It was small and quick, but so were her hands. She slowly lowered them into the water, spreading her fingers apart.
"Slowly," Jack reminded her. "Move with the water."
She eased her hands toward the fish. Ripples spread across the surface, distorting its shape beneath the water. Before she could get any closer, the fish darted away and disappeared beneath the bank.
Morwenna pulled her hands back, her shoulders drooping.
"Again," Jack encouraged her.
She waited until the fish returned to the same spot. This time, she moved more slowly, keeping her hands relaxed and her fingers spread so the current could pass between them.
The fish stayed where it was.
Morwenna inched closer, her hands moving through the cold water. Now she could make out its individual scales, which flashed silver and green whenever they caught the sunlight.
She suddenly brought her hands together.
Water splashed over her arms and soaked the front of her shirt. Her fingers closed around nothing. The fish had escaped.
She stared at her empty palms as water dripped from her fingertips.
"Again," Jack said.
She tried four more times. Each attempt ended the same way. The fish was simply too fast, slipping through her hands like a streak of silver. Once, she felt its tail slap against her palm, a sudden flick of muscle and life, but it was gone before she could close her fingers around it.
On her fifth attempt, she missed completely and dropped onto a submerged stone with a splash.
"I can't do it."
Jack didn't argue. He simply reached into the water and waited, his hands relaxed and his movements slow. When the fish darted past, his hand suddenly shot forward with a speed Morwenna could barely follow.
A moment later, he lifted it from the stream.
The fish shone brilliantly in the sunlight. Its gills pulsed, and its silver body shimmered as it wriggled in his hand.
Jack turned toward her, water dripping from his wrist.
"Would you like to hold it?"
Morwenna stared at the fish's dark, watchful eye. Its tail flicked, scattering cold droplets across her face.
She held out both hands, shaping them into a little cup.
Jack gently placed the fish in her palms. It was cold and incredibly slippery, like a piece of wet soap that could move on its own. Its small body felt strangely delicate, yet full of life.
Morwenna held it for a heartbeat.
Then she opened her fingers.
The fish slipped back into the stream and vanished beneath the dark shadows of the bank.
She looked down at her empty hands. They trembled slightly, both from the cold and the excitement.
"I let it go."
"I know."
Jack was still smiling.
Morwenna looked at the water. The fish had disappeared, and the stream seemed exactly as it had before. She lowered her hands again, letting the current wash over her fingers.
The cold no longer felt unpleasant. It felt good now, familiar in a way she couldn't quite explain.
They returned to camp as the sun began to sink behind the trees. The light had turned a deep orange, casting long, thin shadows across the forest path. Morwenna's feet were soaked, and her shorts were damp, but she hardly noticed the chill.
Saoirse was already beside the fire pit, feeding dry sticks into the flames. Jane was arranging food on the flat rock.
"Did you catch a fish?" Saoirse asked, glancing up.
"No," Morwenna replied. "I let it go."
Saoirse looked at Jack. He gave a small shrug, though the smile on his face remained.
Dinner was simple and quick. The fire was hot enough to toast the last pieces of bread on the end of a sharpened stick. Morwenna ate two pieces, enjoying the crunchy, slightly charred crust, then shared the remaining apples with her family. They tossed the cores into the trees for the forest animals to find.
Once they had finished eating, it was time to pack up.
Jack showed Morwenna how to scatter the ashes from the fire pit, spreading them out until no heat remained beneath the gray surface. She knelt beside him and used her hands to push the fine ash across the stones.
"Why do we have to do this?"
"So nothing catches fire after we leave. We need to make sure the forest stays safe."
Morwenna pushed another little pile of ash apart. It was soft and powdery, leaving her hands covered in a dull gray dust.
Nearby, Saoirse took down the tent, folding the canvas and rolling the groundsheet into a tight bundle. Jane packed the remaining food and heavy wool blankets, working through everything methodically.
Morwenna helped wherever she could. She carried the folded tent to the bags, collected the empty water bottles, and gathered the scraps of foil left from the morning's breakfast. She placed them in the rubbish bag rather than leaving them behind.
When everything had been packed, Jack stood and looked over the clearing one last time.
The fire pit was cold. The stones had been scattered, and the grass beneath the tent was pressed flat in a neat circle. Apart from that, there was little sign that anyone had spent the night there.
"Right," he said. "That's us."
They started back through the forest as the daylight faded. The path became harder to see, and the trees gradually turned into dark silhouettes against the deepening purple sky.
Jack led the way with the large pack over his shoulder. Jane walked just behind Morwenna, keeping one hand on her shoulder and guiding her around the thicker roots. Saoirse followed at the back, humming a low, steady tune that matched the rhythm of their footsteps.
Morwenna didn't know the words, but the melody comforted her as the forest grew darker around them.
At last, the trees opened onto the field. The cottage stood beyond it, backed by the distant hills. Its windows looked dark and quiet until the family drew closer.
Morwenna's legs felt terribly heavy. Her feet ached, and her hands were still stained with ash from the fire.
As soon as they reached the cottage, Cinder dashed ahead and disappeared through the open door, his tail wagging.
Jane took Morwenna's little bag from her.
"A bath first, then bed."
Morwenna nodded. Her head already felt too heavy to hold up.
The bath was hot, and thick clouds of steam rose around her, carrying the gentle scent of lavender soap. Jane washed the ash from her hands and the mud from her knees. Morwenna sat quietly in the water, too tired to splash or talk, letting the warmth sink into her sore muscles.
Once she was clean, Jane wrapped her in a thick, fluffy towel and helped her into the bedroom.
The sheets felt cool against her skin, and the blankets were wonderfully soft. Cinder had already claimed his usual place at the foot of the bed, where he curled up with his warm body resting against her feet.
Morwenna lay down, her eyes already growing heavy as soon as her head touched the pillow.
Jane pulled the covers up to her chin and gently smoothed them.
« C'était une bonne journée ? »
Was it a good day?
Morwenna's lips curved into a small, tired smile.
"Yes."
Jane leaned down and kissed her forehead.
« Dors bien. »
Sleep well.
Morwenna closed her eyes. The room was dark, the bed was soft, and Cinder's slow breathing was the only sound near her feet.
She smiled as sleep carried her away.
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